Silence is Bronze
by TakenHawkeye
Summary: Father Mulcahy adjusts to a life of silence after the war. Will review all who review me.


The adjustment into the world of silence slipped by Father Mulcahy without his noticing. That is, of course, not to say he didn't yearn for sound. He did, but no longer would tears spring to his eyes while the choir sang during Mass, no longer did it pain him to imagine the simple sound of voice, no longer would the bolting shock hit him each morning he woke to silence. His nights of long prayer and shaking sobs became few and far apart. He began to forget to miss sound, and slowly appreciate the other senses of every day.

Trying times did come and go, as was to be expected. His first Christmas home, Father Mulcahy belatedly realized, halfway through the midnight Mass, that the traditional ringing of the bells would be lost on him. No longer a priest, in the traditional sense, he clung to all he could of the Catholic ways. To have one gone from his grasp for good was a staggering blow, one weathered in, he would admit, not the most effective of ways.

Shortly after arriving home, Father Mulcahy began, at the urgings of his sister, to look for a possible treatment. Perhaps the loss of hearing could be regained, at least enable him to an ordinary life without silence. He began trek after trek to various doctors, each one more hopeful than the last. Countless surgeries began (all sworn to be without risk by the retired Colonel Potter, by way of numerous letters), innumerable testing took place, and each time Father Mulcahy was assured complete recovery. Not once did the recovery come. The letdowns and disappointments began to pain him more than the silence, and after six years, he gave up and resigned himself to a life as a deaf man.

He still kept in constant touch with those of the 4077th, writing a letter two or three times a week. He knew within days of the birth of BJ's second child, of the death of Radar's mother, of the arrival home of Klinger and Soon-Lee. He knew, in great detail, of Hawkeye's struggle with the bottle, and Charles's inability to readjust to the Boston social life he so sorely had missed, and of Potter's feelings of restlessness. Letters went back and forth, from coast to coast and everywhere in between, and still Father Mulcahy managed to constantly "forget" to mention the vital change in his life. BJ, and more recently Potter, remained the only ones who knew of his accident for months, and for some reason, the Father wanted it to stay just this way.

He never bothered to disillusion himself -- his days of priesthood were over. At least, he admitted, in the usual sense. He could no longer hear confessions or listen to the problems and perils of a member of the church, and he quickly learned that most people were lost when it came to dealing with a deaf man -- let alone priest. Their uncomfortable looks, over-zealous urges to help, and habit of finding Father Mulcahy as helpless as a child, proved just that. So he gracefully bowed out of the traditional priesthood, and quickly found work in a small institution for deaf children. He loved his work, cherished his hours with the children, but never stopped missing the congregation he should have had. There was no denying he now lived a life he would have never predicted for himself, as much as he found himself enjoying it.

Letters were one thing; the phone calls that began shortly after he started at the institution were something else entirely. When Radar phoned to send the priest Christmas wishes, Father Mulcahy convinced one of the novices to decline the call for him, claiming he was all too busy and a letter would be on its way shortly, instead. Klinger's ecstatic call, bearing news of his first-born son, was ignored with heart-breaking discipline. Hawkeye's calls of concern ("Busy? What do you mean, busy? Tell him -- tell him it's Hawkeye, he won't ignore -- I don't care how busy he is!") left the Father with three different drafts of an explanation letter he never sent. BJ and Potter never once dialed Father Mulcahy, much to his appreciation and disappointment.

Father Mulcahy grew accustomed to his silent world without realizing he did. One night he went to bed expecting at any moment to hear the hymns of Mass and one morning he woke unable to imagine sound. Slowly, he began to forget the noises of life; the honking horns of cars, the rustling of a breeze through a tree, the voice of his own sister. He struggled to remember all he could, but with no repetition of sound, they slipped away and into the darkness.

The reunion invitation arrived eighteen months after his first spring back in Philadelphia. Apprehensions grew, and numerous letters seeking advice found their way to BJ and the elder Colonel Potter. The urge to decline the invite, remain the man with hearing (in the eye of friends, at least) was so strong he nearly refused to go. When it came down to giving up his final tie to hearing or a chance to see a group of people he dearly missed, Father Mulcahy was on a plane and halfway to New York City before he could give the issue any more thought.

In hindsight, he admitted, it was foolish of him to try and keep what had happened to him a secret -- within minutes of his arrival, everyone knew and a round of drinks (followed by heartfelt sympathy that no one seemed to realize -- or care -- he didn't hear) was on its way.

Pity, too found it's way to him. The looks held the eyes of those dear to him said it all. Whether it be Hawkeye, BJ, or his sister, the eyes were always the same. Drowning in pity, wishing to make it all better; it was in this way, Father Mulcahy mused, that he got along best with the children he worked with. They too, understood, in a way he could never find the words to express. Their eyes held no pity.

Time passed and the children grew, and still Father Mulcahy remained in the silent world. On those frustrating days he would think of himself trapped, stuck all alone a world apart from those he loved. Other days he was blessed, privy to a life few would ever know -- a life of miracles and sense.

It was nearly two years after the war when the Father suddenly realized that he truly understood the shroud of mixed blessings.


End file.
